"You are very good. I have never seen one like you. I love you well." And, bathed in moonlight, she raised her face and her glowing lips toward him.
Mr. Raleigh gazed in the innocent eyes a moment, to seek the extent of her meaning, and felt, that, should he take advantage of her childlike forgetfulness, he would be only reënacting the part he had so much condemned in one man years before. So he merely bent low over the hand that lay in his, raised it, and touched his lips to that. In an instant the color suffused her face, she snatched the hand away, half rose trembling from her seat, then sank into it again.
"Soit, Monsieur!" she exclaimed, abruptly. "But you have not told me the danger."
"It will not alarm you now?" he replied, laughing.
"I have said that I am not a coward."
"I wonder what you would think of me when I say that without doubt I am."
"You, Mr. Raleigh?" she cried, astonishment banishing anger.
"Not that I betray myself. But I have felt the true heart-sinking. Once, surprised in the centre of an insurrection, I expected to find my hair white as snow, if I escaped."
"Your hair is very black. And you escaped?"
"So it would appear."